


not wide eyed but ever curious

by KatyaOrchid



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-20 13:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19992709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatyaOrchid/pseuds/KatyaOrchid
Summary: “You were much better at redirection a few bodies ago.”“I really wasn’t,” she grumbled. “You were just used to it. Alright, fine,” she said, flinging her arms out to indicate her whole body. “First time with a female body. Wanted to test it out.”





	not wide eyed but ever curious

**Author's Note:**

> when in the timeline is this set? that's a fun mystery for you to solve!

Jack politely knocked on the blue police box door, shifting his feet in the late afternoon sun. It’d been a good few years since he last saw the Doctor, and he had entirely no idea what to expect. Hypothetically, an old friend landing on your doorstep meant they were keen to see you, but there was always the possibility that the TARDIS had malfunctioned or been hijacked by aliens or some time-related mess needed sorting or that he’d entirely forgotten that Jack lived here.

The door flew open, and a white man in his fifties - _strong-jawed, traditionally handsome, healthy looking in a way that suggested a lot of stamina for his age_ \- with rather feminine looking sunglasses perched on the top of his head peered out.

“Doctor?” Jack guessed.

The man glared. “So this is the reason we’re all being kicked out. Date night!”

A younger, brown skinned woman - _pretty brown eyes, wide mouthed, soft long hair, pleasingly authoritative gaze_ \- appeared under his arm. “You could have just said,” she said, eyeing Jack up and down and not looking particularly displeased to do so.

Someone yelled “Oi!” from further into the ship, with an inflection that Jack would recognise anywhere.

Jack turned on one of his lower level smirks for the pair at the door. “Captain Jack Harkness. I take it neither of you are the Doctor.”

“She’s in here,” the older man grumbled, shuffling aside to let Jack in. _She?,_ Jack thought, but still had enough awareness to let his arm _accidentally_ brush the older man’s on the way past, and grin when he flushed.

The first thing he noticed was low, golden orange light, a complete redesign of the TARDIS’s interior. It seemed smaller than usual, but on second glance that was an illusion of the light, making the space seem warm and cozy. And by the center console was an incredibly cute woman, round cheeked and beaming.

“Doctor?” he guessed again.

“Obviously!” she cried, sounding thrilled rather than exasperated.

“I see your rudeness didn’t survive regeneration.”

“Huh? Oh, that was _bodies_ back. Changed a lot, me. Well my last one was rude, but not in the way you’d recognise.”

Jack ignored the drop in his gut and smiled, opening his arms. “You the hugging type, now? - _oof.”_

She was small enough, now, that he could wrap her arms around her waist and lift her off the ground, and he was so dizzy with joy that he spun them a few times before setting her down, leaving his arms around her. Her hair seemed softer, but she still smelled the same.

There was a noise from behind the console, and he looked up to see a young black man - _full-lipped, solemn, air of a gentle and thorough lover_ \- walk out of the corridor. “Who’s this then?” the man asked.

“This,” the older man said, “is the reason we’re being told to go off without her.”

“I said go explore!” the Doctor yelled, not leaving Jack’s arms. _Odd._

“Explore 21st century Cardiff?” the young woman asked, wrinkling her nose skeptically.

“That’s why you don’t need me.”

“Doesn’t stop you from coming with us,” the young man said.

“I told you, I need to supervise the TARDIS while she recharges. It’ll take a good twelve hours.”

Jack managed to not raise an eyebrow at the lie. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“What’s the point, they’re all leaving.”

“Yeah, so you can get laid,” the young man snorted.

“OUT!” the Doctor bellowed. Grumbling, smirking, and sniggering, the three humans piled out the door.

“And you heard me, no coming back for twelve hours!”

The young woman stuck her head back in the door. “You said it’d be charging for twelve hours, not that we can’t come back.”

“Same difference,” the Doctor insisted.

“It’s already late, where are we supposed to sleep?”

“Get a hotel.”

“Right,” the woman said, “you’re definitely not booting us so you can -” The TARDIS door gently pushed her face out before closing with an uncharacteristically satisfying _clunk._

The Doctor grinned at the walls. “Thank you old girl.”

She was still holding Jack. “This new you is amazingly cuddly,” he remarked.

She frowned, and stepped back. “Right.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Jack complained.

“Right,” she repeated.

“And you could have introduced me to your friends,” he said, nervousness growing in his belly. Something was very odd.

“Oh that’s Yaz, Ryan and Graham. You can meet them properly when they’re back.”

“In twelve hours,” he repeated slowly.

“Yes,” she said, taking another step back and biting her lip.

“Doctor, what’s going on?”

She scrunched her face a couple of times, then sighed. “Well, I’ve come this far,” she said. “Jack… you don’t still have feelings for me, do you?”

Jack felt like he was melting, in a horrible, boiling way, like plastic, or wax. He’d forgotten, this heartbreaking mixture of perception and callousness. “What -”

“Oh, no, that came out all wrong,” the Doctor said, her face twisted with enough concern to soothe some of the hurt. “I just thought I’d better check before I went any further, because -”

“No,” he interrupted, quietly. “I don’t. I’ve missed your friendship, I’ve missed _you_ , but I haven’t wanted you in a while.”

She bit her lip, for some reason looking more concerned. “At all?”

Jack stared. “What is this about?” He had a growing suspicion, but… no….

She bit her lip harder, then beamed. “Just checking! Alright, movie night! You must have been missing those 51st century romcoms. Really the best era for them.”

“Doctor,” Jack warned. “You were much better at redirection a few bodies ago.”

“I really wasn’t,” she grumbled. “You were just used to it. Alright, fine,” she said, flinging her arms out to indicate her whole body. “First time with a female body. Wanted to test it out.”

Jack stared. “Test it?”

She nodded.

“You did come here for sex?” he clarified, not even trying to hold back his grin.

“You’re not… mad?”

“I probably should be,” he admitted. “Apparently you’ve been avoiding me for a while, and then you come back just to use and abuse me…”

“Hey, I’ve seen you loads of times!” she protested. “Just further in your timeline. We get used to popping in and out of each other’s lives, you and me.”

This, too, he’d forgotten - the feeling that his life, to him, a road over a hill he’d yet to climb, to her, was an already traversed path. “So why now?”

She hissed on an indrawn breath. “Ah. Spoilers. You’ve got a few… serious relationships coming up. You gave me a very date heavy timeline in the 22nd century. And also mentioned this is about when you were, well... well over me. Actually, this might have been why!”

“You think I told you my life story so you’d know when to come back and shag me?”

She smiled bashfully. “Well, I thought, either way, you might like to see me.”

He grinned back. He may not love this whirlwind anymore, this force that changed his life so thoroughly he couldn’t help but place her at the centre of it, but he’d still go anywhere to see her smile. Do anything, in fact. And it’s sex. He likes sex. “Should we start with a kiss?”

She cheered, and threw herself at him again, then froze. “Do you think you might… redevelop feelings, if we do this? I forgot to take that into account.”

The honest part of his brain points out there’s no way to know that for sure, but it’s the part of him already responding to having a bubbly blonde pressed against him that says, “If I fell for everyone I slept with I’d be a permanently heartbroken man, wouldn’t I?” He does, a little, and he is, but not in the way she needs to know about.

She frowns. “Yeah but, we have _history_.”

Is she really trying to talk him out of this for the sake of _his_ tender feelings, of all things? There’s not a chance in hell of him letting her do that. “But consider, with a new face, I don’t think my subconscious even knows you’re the same person. Emotionally immune to you, I am.”

She wriggled excitedly, shutting off the honest part of his brain for good. “Alright. Full steam ahead!”

He leaned down and pressed their lips together. She took a few moments letting him gently kiss her, learning her taste, before she pushed forward impatiently and sucked his top lip, hard. He moaned, and she pulled back with a look of triumph. “Got you!”

He smirked down at her. “Twelve hours?”

“I’ve got a lot to try!”

“I’ve got a few things to try too,” he replied, and hoisted her up, moving his arms to catch her under her thighs as she squealed. “Though I didn’t think I could make you make that noise.”

“Well I’ve never been _manhandled_ before,” she said crossly, clinging to him trepidatiously. “At least, not in this context.”

“Hmm,” he said, distracted by the feeling of her firm thighs in his hands and her crossed heels digging into his back. “Where’s the bedroom?”

“I’ll direct you,” she promised, and as he carried her down the corridor she drew in a breath. “ _Oh_ ,” she sighed, gently rocking against him. “I get it.”

* * *

In the bedroom, which isn’t Jack’s old one but he’s entirely sure isn’t hers, he drops her onto the white-sheeted bed and laughs as she curses, bouncing slightly. They’d dropped her coat in the corridor somewhere, and she goes straight for the fastenings of her trousers, before freezing. “Shoes.”

“I’ll get them,” Jack says, kneeling on the edge of the bed and pulling her feet up so she naturally falls back onto her elbows and watches him, not exactly wide eyed but ever curious. He kicks off his own shoes as he pulls off hers, tossing them over his shoulders before peeling off her socks (ankle high, blue with silver shooting stars). The sight of her slim bare ankles briefly awes him, and he presses a kiss to each one. Her eyes do go wide then. They take a moment just looking at each other, then she scrambles back.

“Pants!” she cries, standing up on the bed to unclip her braces and letting her trousers fall. He laughs, catching her clothes as she kicks them away, then he sees her neon green underwear and laughs harder.

“I had to shop for underwear in _this century_ , Jack,” she whines. “You wouldn’t believe how hard that was. Though we did only try one shop. Anyway,” and she pushes her underwear down. He stops laughing.

“Should I have shaved?” she asks. “I forgot that you might be used to 21st century standards.”

“How could you think that of me?” he asks, genuinely stung.

She laughs, and steps closer to him. The thick patch of gold hair is nearly level with his face. “You should see the haircut you get in the 22nd. But I didn’t even do my legs, look.”

He’s looked. “You look beautiful,” he assures her, wrapping an arm around her waist and another one round to grab her ass. “Would you believe, I’ve missed a natural woman.”

She bounces a few times, beaming. “Alright, get your kit off. I thought we’d start with you giving me head.”

* * *

“Are you _sure_ you need to stop?” she gasps, legs splayed so wide they’re straining, hearts beating a frantic rhythm under her breasts.

Jack has rolled away from her, rubbing his jaw. “Inferior biology,” he manages. He looks up the bed at her, sprawled naked over the pillows like an empress, flushed pink from head to toe and red where her thighs had attempted to flatten his head. “Twenty isn’t enough for you?”

“Twenty-two,” she corrects. “I saw you lose count when I got on top.” She grins down at him, body already calming.

“Lucky I can’t suffocate to death, isn’t it,” he grumbles. He feels thoroughly used and a little degraded and very, very happy about it.

“Luck?” The Doctor scoffs. “I was aware of that the whole time.”

“I can’t have been doing that well then,” he says, maybe ninety percent joking, “if you were aware of anything.”

“Time Lord brain. Can’t switch all of it off. Only basic functions,” she assures him, “anything past 48th century physics would have been beyond me.”

“Good to know,” Jack says. He looks sideways to see her knee bumping his cheek, and he kisses it, before experimentally nibbling her thigh.

She shivers, gratifyingly, all over. “All right,” she says, sitting up. “Penises! Time to try something with one of those.”

He moans again. Around her fourteenth orgasm his brain had accepted him being hard as a permanent state, sighed, and put it to one side. Now even that distinctly unsexy reminder has moved it up the agenda. “You might have to let me handle this one myself, Doc. I’m not going to last long.”

She doesn’t seem to be listening, looking at his dick the way she’d look at a sonic screwdriver she was trying to decide which setting to turn to. “I don’t imagine giving fellatio would be different with this body? Though we can test that later. More important things to do now. Ah!” She wriggles down beside him. “Move up the bed. Head on the pillows.”

“Did you hear me?” he asks. “When I said I won’t last long?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll manage,” she says crossly. “If not, we can wait out your refractory period. Get a shift on.”

He obeys, shuffling up until he feels the pillows under his neck, collapsing back onto them with a sigh of relief. His entire upper body seemed to have been involved in eating her out.

She’s flung a leg over him to straddle him now, blonde hair sex-messy past the point of traditional attractiveness, eyes bright, and she grins at him and asks, “Ready?”

“Probably not,” he replies, but when she frowns, concerned, he runs a soothing hand up her thigh, “but go on then.”

She grins again, then carefully sinks down.

Jack was wrong - he’s been hard so long he seems to have forgotten how to come, which is lucky because otherwise he would have immediately embarrassed himself. The Doctor’s whimpering a little, and he remembers this is an entirely new experience for her as he asks, “Are you okay?”

“More of a stretch than I expected,” she gasps. “Isn’t it _made_ for this? Did evolution fail _human_ women as much as Gallifreyians?”

“Yes,” he replies honestly, then he shouts as she rocks her hips and pushes herself further down.

“I may be a _little_ oversensitive,” she admits.

“Oh, good,” Jack mutters. “I did leave an impression.”

There’s a tiny crease between her closed eyes. “Hold on,” she says. “I can do this, I just - need a minute.”

“You might not have it,” he admits. Her breasts jiggle slightly every time she twitches.

“Hold on,” she repeats, “hold on hold on hold on hold - okay _yes_ ,” and she rocks her hips and keeps rocking them until he’s flinging his head back, trying to give her a respectably long ride.

“Jack,” she whines, and he looks back. She’s bouncing now, looking frantic. “I’m so close, I don’t know what I need, I just - “

He grabs one thigh and thrusts up as he drops his other hand between her legs, and she groans and comes and squeezes tight tight tight around him and he’s not entirely sure if he passes out but the chances are pretty high.

She lies beside him as they catch their breath, which takes three times as long for him as for her, to his quiet annoyance, and as soon as he’s relaxing into the afterglow reality crashes in.

“Oh no,” he groans, annoyed with himself beyond belief. Yes, he’s a.... _voracious_ lover but he’s always been a responsible one, until today. Though the Doctor would have taken her own precautions, but it was up to him to check.

He rolls towards her and looks into her half-closed, dark eyes. “No chance of a pregnancy, is there?”

Her eyes snap open, and she stares at him for a long moment before flinging herself off the bed and sprinting, shrieking, into the corridor.

“Oh _no_ ,” Jack says.

* * *

He meant to give her a few minutes then go after her, but that time was enough for the adrenaline of staring the prospect of a half-human, not-love child with an thrill-junky traumatised alien in the face to wear off, and he fell asleep before he could even think to move the wet sheets. So he wasn’t particularly comfortable when she woke him by shaking his arm.

“All fine?” he yawns, peeling his face from a sticky pillowcase.

“Pregnancy’s _unlikely_ ,” the Doctor says, slipping, still naked, under his arm, “but I shot myself with a morning after contraceptive just in case. Had to hunt for it. And then I had to clean the corridor. I didn’t expect it to all fall out of me like that,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

“Hmm,” he says. The view of her back, pale and marked with the occasional dark freckle, dipping and then rising into a small but plump ass, is a new one.

“I’d seen all that from the other side, of course, but honestly, it’s amazing what you think you’ve been paying attention to but haven’t picked up at all.”

“That might just be you, love,” he points out. She grins.

“Are you recovered enough? We do have a time limit.”

“How long is this list of yours?” he asks, pushing himself up the bed reluctantly.

“It’s not a list of acts, so much as a collection of concepts. Hmm... oh, I know! While we’re on the subject, will you come on my tits?”

He’s not sure which emotion his mind produces in response to that, but it makes his entire brain backfire for a minute.

“How is that on subject?” he manages.

“General differences in male and female experiences,” she explains, with the tone in her voice that means it should be obvious. “Animalistic mate marking, ingrained misogynistic claiming instinct. I know the male side, I want to know if it’s any good for women.”

“You make it sound so romantic,” Jack teases, and pushes her over ‘til he’s straddling her, on her back. “So what’s the plan?”

“Oh, just go for it,” she says, making herself comfortable, staring up at him with bright eyes.

“Er... okay,” Jack says, and begins to stroke himself. It’s not hard to get hard, looking at her round breasts, slightly flattened by gravity, and her soft pink nipples, but it is hard to push it much further with her staring up at him with curiosity rather than arousal.

He drops his hand and sighs. “Shouldn’t you be getting something out of this too?”

“Well, that’s the point. To see if I do.”

“Yes, but mostly women are already involved when it happens. Also, I have to say, this blow up doll impression isn’t going to get me far.”

“Oh, all right,” she grumbles, and slides a hand between her legs.

He can’t see what she’s doing, and he likes that, likes that he can only see her face, eyes falling shut with every gasp, can only see her chest arch up and nipples tighten and that pink flush begin to creep back into her body. He brings his own hand back, and when she can keep her eyes open she looks at the head of his dick sliding in and out of his hand, and she licks her lips maybe because her mouth is dry but maybe, maybe, because she wants to taste, and he groans and catches her other hand, scrabbling across the sheets, and brings it to his cock, and there’s a few confusing moments where they learn to coordinate and have a bit of a laugh and this is what he likes about sex, this feeling of working together to get somewhere good but enjoying the messy reality of it along the way, and he’s glad that it’s as she’s tossing her head back and losing the battle to keep her eyes open that he comes, just where she’d wanted. Some streaks her straining neck instead, but she can’t say he didn’t try.

It’s his turn to dismount and slither up beside her, and as she opens her eyes and blinks down at her breasts, she seems more confused than anything. “Huh.”

“Not good?” Jack asks.

“It’s _fine_ ,” she says. “I mean, I’m not really reacting at _all_. It’s... definitely there.”

“Yeah,” Jack says. One line of his come crosses over her nipple, still drawn up tight and hard. On impulse, he leans forward and licks it up, tasting his own bitter saltiness over the faint sweetness of her skin, sucking her nipple as he reaches it.

She gasps, like she’s solved some world-threatening problem. “Oh! Oh oh oh oh oh! Keep doing that! Oh!”

He looks up at her. “What part?”

“The licking it up. And the nipples. And, oh, could you put your fingers in me? Or maybe your cock. Your fingers or your cock. Yes, yes, yes, oh god, do the other side -”

He raises his head from her chest. “Well, I’ve learned one of your kinks,” he says.

“Yes, very clever! Now keep doing it -”

“Oh, not this,” Jack says pleasantly. “Your kink is being demanding,” and ignores her rapping him over the head as he goes back to doing what he’s told.

* * *

They wake together, slowly and clumsily, and they’re nuzzling each other before they’re even fully conscious and then when they are he’s rolling over and she’s wrapping herself around him and he’s sliding inside her, and she’s calling “Jack, Jack, Jack,” and he’s moaning “Doctor,” and she has the bizarre urge to tell him her true name so she can hear him moan it like that, like they’ve got a pocket universe all to themselves in this bed, where time has slowed, and they’re wrapped so tightly he can feel her two hearts hammering against his own chest, hammering against his own heart, alone in his body, and they’re both coming and gasping and even as their sweat cools to stickiness and they become aware of strands of hair in their mouth and creased sheets digging in oddly they don’t let go, and he’s not sure but maybe, maybe, they fall asleep like that.

* * *

He’s slipped out of her but she’s still in his arms, and she’s playing with strands of his hair, pulling her own forward to compare, face creased in concentration. His heart, unfortunately, twinges.

“Doctor?” he whispers

She looks at him. “Yes?” Matching his volume.

“I might be in danger.”

Her eyes narrow, then widen with understanding. “Should we stop?”

He shakes his head, gently. Lets his voice rise in volume. “You said yourself, I get over it. A bit more space. Let’s keep enjoying this.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods. Maybe he lies to her, when he sees her in the future, maybe she carries part of his heart out into time and space again and he spends another century waiting for it back, or maybe he only has a few days of moping and star-gazing ahead before he laughs at himself and gets on with his endless life, but either way, he’s not giving this up.

“Good,” she says, back to speaking volume now, “because we have five hours fifty four minutes left, and I want to know how anal penetration feels without a prostate.”

Jack chokes on his own breath.

**Author's Note:**

> constructive criticism is _heavily_ appreciated


End file.
